


Arabian Nights

by Cloudyerd11



Series: Drawn into a Fantasy [2]
Category: Aladdin (1992), Aladdin (2019), Disney - All Media Types, Disney Princesses
Genre: Animal Parental Figures, F/M, Forced Servitude, Friendly Character Relationships, I DO NOT OWN RIGHTS TO ORIGINAL STORYLINE CHARACTERS, Long Term Amnesia, Magic, Mature Langauage, ORIGINAL CHARACTERS TAKE PLACES OF ORIGINAL STORY LINE CHARACTERS, PLEASE NOTE:, Romantic Character Relationships, Temporary Amnesia, Theft, and YES CHRIS IS A GIRL, more tags will be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23340556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudyerd11/pseuds/Cloudyerd11
Summary: Brooklyn and Chris thought their time of being fairy tale characters was over; one time gig, no big deal, in an out and done. But the fantasy universe has caught up with the two best friends once more...Only this time, they're not alone.After being in the wrong place at the wrong time, Mark wakes up to find himself in the life of the beloved Aladdin with no recollection of how he got there and a faint remembrance of his realistic past. Forced to live the life of a street rat, Mark must fully become the diamond in the rough and finish the story in order to return to his original life. He just needs to remember the three rules:1) Find the others in their character forms; 2) Continue the story line without giving away any spoilers no matter how tempted; and 3) what ever you do... Don't get left behind.
Relationships: Aladdin/Jasmine (Disney), Jafar/Genie (Disney), Orginal Female Character(s)/Orignal Male Character(s)
Series: Drawn into a Fantasy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680445
Kudos: 1





	1. Caught in a Dance

**Author's Note:**

> I know I haven't written the first story of this series yet, but I just couldn't get this idea out of my head. So welcome! Sit back, relax, keep practicing your social distancing, and enjoy this time-passing story. :)

“Alright!” Says Mr. Abarro, walking to the front of the class. “We only have about ten minutes left in class, and we need at least three people to read their short stories. So do we have any volunteers?”

Brooklyn clicks the end of her pen while raising her hand. She looks down at the story she’s written, her eyes scanning over her slanted, half-cursive, half-print handwriting. She looks up to see Mr. Abarro pointing in her direction, but moving his hand between her and the seat behind.

“One of you go first, then the other,” Mr. Abarro says in his slight Filipino accent.

Brooklyn turns around in her seat, looking into the multicolored eyes of her best friend. Chris looks back at her with the same expression, her hand still semi in the air.

“Go ahead,” Brooklyn says, leaning back in her seat to watch.

Chris stretches out her arm, something she does right before every time she speaks out to the class. She begins her story with a catching intro, going right into a sentence using all five of the words we’re supposed to use, and using the line after to insert her required question. She ends the story with a statement, catching a few oohs and awws from the class.

Brooklyn is the first one to start clapping, still turned in her desk to face her friend. Chris does a make-shift bow in her seat, her face plastered with a big smile. Even though she shares her stories every day, each story she writes ends with a huge smile of success that brightens up Brooklyn’s day. Seeing her friend doing something that makes her happy and proud makes Brooklyn happy and proud.

She turns around in her seat, and her smile slightly fades as she feels the attention suddenly turn to her. She takes a quick looks at Mr. Abarro, who nods in encouragement.

“The two friends stood staring at the classroom around them, with its grey walls and stained white boards,” she reads, keeping her eyes focused on the paper and nothing else. “Although they knew the classroom and had spent almost every day of the high school lives within its door, the view was a sight to see. Why might you ask? Because they had just returned from an adventure straight from a fairy tale; risking their lives to finish the story that had brought them into it. And it certainly wasn’t like anything they had ever experienced before.”

The class once again echoed with oohs and awws, followed by large rounds of clapping. The feeling made shy and anxious Brooklyn want to share her stories more often, even though she has severe anxiety issues when it comes to sharing something as vulnerable as her writing.

“Typical Brooklyn,” says a voice next to her. She and those around her turn to Mark, who was sitting back with his feet up on the empty chair in front of him. “Making the rest of us look bad with her extremely detailed writing.”

If it was anyone else, they might have taken it as a compliment. But for Brooklyn, someone who has problems making class presentations let alone sharing her own stories to the class, it was possibly one of the most degrading things anyone ever said.

A few of those who had listened chuckled quietly to themselves, turning their attention to the next volunteer writer. Brooklyn felt the desk behind her move as Chris began to stand up, but Brooklyn put a hand on her friend’s arm. She could see the anger in her friend’s face, which didn’t go away as she sat back down in her seat, crossing her arms and glaring at Mark.

Brooklyn is thankful when Mr. Abarro finally allowed the class to pack up with a minute left until the bell. As the relieving noise of the final bell for the day echoed through the room, Brooklyn instantly stands up and hurries out the door, only pausing for a second to wish Mr. Abarro goodbye.

Chris on the other hand, takes her sweet time, letting people go ahead of her as they rush out of the classroom. When a familiar blue sports sweatshirt enters her vision, she puts her arm out, making him stop as everyone else exited the room.

“Hey, do you mind?” Mark asks. “I got somewhere to be.”

“Hey, do you mind not being a complete ass to my best friend?”

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “I made an innocent comment. Why is bugging you so much?”

“Because I know my best friend, and I know that she is very self conscious about her and her writing. And I also happen to know what exactly would piss her off and make her upset. So congratulations, Mr. smart-ass, you hit it right on the nose.”

Mark opens his mouth to say something, but immediately closes it, not saying another word.

“Good. Now I would advise that the next time you see her, you apologize. And make it authentic alright?”

He puts his hands up in defense as Chris walks away from him, waving a quick goodbye to Mr. Abarro as she passes and rushes down the hall towards the one place she knows she can find her friend.

Mark, on the other hand, remains standing in the same place, lost in his own thoughts. What was wrong with him? It seems like every time he tries to say something to Brooklyn, whom he has had a crush on since the eighth grade, all that comes out are insults that lead to Brooklyn leaving class upset and Chris angry at him.

His mind drifts to Brooklyn’s story from today, how detailed and perfect it was. It painted a beautiful picture in his mind, almost as beautiful as her, her long blonde hair drifting down over her face, and her smile as she read the story out loud with no flaws at all. Even the way she plays with the silver bracelet on her arm every time she reads is beautiful in his mind, making her unique from everyone else.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s walking down the hallway towards the yearbook room, the one place Brooklyn would be. All thoughts leave his mind as he approaches the door, all except two.

_ I’m sorry _ …

*****

“Brooklyn?” Chris calls softly as she opens the door to the yearbook room. Almost immediately inside the door is her friend, breathing heavy and slightly swaying back and forth. Chris drops her bag on a desk and moves to be standing in front of her friend. She places her hands on her friend’s arms, trying to steady her. She bends down a little bit to look her friend eye to eye, despite Brooklyn’s brown eyes being closed.

The two simply stand there in the room, not making any noise. After a few minutes, Brooklyn stands up a little straighter, finally opening her eyes to be looking at her friend, who greets her with kind eyes and a cheerful smile.

“You alright?” Chris asks calmly.

Brooklyn nods her head in response. “Yea, yea I’m fine. I’m good.”

“Alright. And next time, just let me take him right then and there okay?”

The two girls laugh, calm immediately spreading through Brooklyn’s anxious-shaking body. They turn towards their desks, hands one each other’s shoulders for comfort, not noticing the out-of-place book until they nearly run into it.

Brooklyn stops cold, staring in front of her while maintaining hand-to-shoulder contact with Chris, who has stopped cold as well.

In front of them, resting on the small desk, is a brown leather book, tied together with two small leather straps. On the front is an intricate design that seems to be changing constantly, the outline morphing into various shapes that one could only assume are characters in the story.

“Chris…”

“I see it.”

The two girls continue to stare at the book, unable to move from fear and realization. The book is back, and so has the story.

It has come back for them...


	2. Lost in a Trance

“How did it get here?” Asks Brooklyn, carefully taking a step towards it.

“I have no idea,” Chris responds. She reaches out and gently lifts the book, turning it in her hands, studying it as though searching for an explosive device. “It looks the same.”

“I thought we were done with it,” Brooklyn continues, reaching out and taking the book from her friend. “Didn’t it disappear when we came back last time?”

“Yea, but that was after we finished the story. Remember? Easton told us it was sitting in here even when we weren’t.” Brooklyn sets the hardback on the desk and begins ruffling through the pages. “You don’t think it came back for us again did it?”

“Um… Chris…”

“What?”

“It’s not the same story.”

“Are you serious?” Chris presses up against Brooklyn, skimming the pages over her shoulder. It definitely isn’t the same story as last time. It even has a different writing style, one that Chris doesn’t recognize. “Brooklyn, what story is this?”

“It’s  _ Aladdin _ ,” Brooklyn answers, her voice soft with shock.

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve watched this movie since I was a kid. It’s my favorite. I know it like the back of my hand.”

“Brooklyn,” says a voice behind them. Both friends turned to see Mark walking through the door.

“Not now Mark,” Brooklyn answers, continuing to flip through the pages of the book, trying to find the answers to the questions running rapidly through her confused mind.

“Listen I just want to explain.” Mark continues, walking closer and even reaching his arm out towards her shoulder, only to find an angry and stern face Chris standing in front of him. She swats his hand out of the way as she did so, pointing up at him while putting a hand on Brooklyn’s arm.

“Don’t you come any closer, ass-hat.”

“What do you really think I’m going to do, huh? I just want to talk…”

“And I don’t fucking care. We’re busy, so that’s your cue to leave. Unless you would like me to escort you out myself.”

“Please, I could take you even on my worst day,” Mark says, trying to take another step forward, only to have Chris push him away.

“Try it, bitch boy.”

The conversation is cut short as a burst of shock runs through the room. Chris’s head turns towards Brooklyn, who had taken a step back with her hands semi protecting her face.

The book still lays open one the table, yellow and blue energy surrounding it, almost like dust surrounding an old book disturbed by time.

“What the fuck is that?” Asks Mark, staring at the witchcraft infested book.

“I don’t know what happened!” Exclaims Brooklyn. “I was barely even touching it!”

“I thought we fixed it last time?” Says Chris, her statement more of a question than anything.

“Fixed what last time?”

The three teens turn towards the direction of the new voice. Chris’ eyes widen at the sight of Easton standing near the door.

“Easton…” she begins, but a new pulse of energy runs through the room. Everyone covers their faces and/or turns their heads to avoid the energy, but they prove to be merely effortless acts.

“What’s wrong with that thing?” Mark asks, practically shouting.

“I don’t know! This didn’t happen last time!” Cries Brooklyn.

“What do you mean ‘last time’?”

Before she could answer, Chris lunges towards her as a third pulse runs through the room again, this time with more power. The energy seems to target Chris as she reaches to push Brooklyn out of the way, the blast hitting Chris square in the chest and sending her flying across the room. Her back slams against the white board and her head snaps back at the sudden change in force, dropping her to the ground.

“Chris!” Brooklyn shouts, instantly moving towards her unmoving friend.

Two strands of yellow energy appear simultaneously, both coming straight from the unmoving pages of the book. One runs through Mark’s left shoulder, the other shooting through the back of Brooklyn’s. Upon contact, Brooklyn instantly falls to her knees, her entire body going rigid.

Mark tries to hold onto the desk next to him for as long as he can, but eventually falls to the ground. His entire body is riddled with pain unlike anything he has ever felt. He feels as though he was completely losing control, all of his energy being drawn out of him and an unknown sense taking him over.

Through the pain, he focuses his attention on Brooklyn, who is frozen just like him. He tries to move towards her, but the yellow strand responds by pushing more energy through him, his pain increasing even more and rendering him useless. All he can do is watch as Brooklyn and his own self begin to fall apart from the pain.

Easton, who is still standing by the door, has no idea what to do. He is frozen in shock and torn between checking on Chris to make sure she is alright and helping Brooklyn and the strange boy as they begin to be attacked by the horrifying magic book. More fear runs through him at the sight of Brooklyn beginning to dissolve before his eyes, the energy pulling her towards the center of the book.

Energy and pain radiates throughout the room, Chris becoming conscious enough to realize what’s happening. Trying to lift herself off the ground, she looks up, fear running through her tingling spine at the sight of Brooklyn beginning to dissolve into thin air, the magic from the book pulling her into it.

“Brooklyn!”

Chris watches as her friend completely disappears, her energy being pulled into the center of the magic storm. Mark follows almost immediately after, particles of yellow dust fluttering to the spaces where the two teenagers were only seconds before.

Despite the two being gone, the storm continues through the room.

More energy surges into the room as Chris stares at the sight, seeing a faint blue line begin to form and move in her direction. Before it reaches her, two hands grab her shoulders, trying to help her to her feet.

Easton is saying something to her, but the effects of the impact against the white board and the energy radiating through the room is keeping her from hearing anything. She holds onto his arms as he lifts her, but she finds herself only able to get to her knees before the head rush stops her.

She closes her eyes until the pain in her head dies down, and when she opens her eyes she sees Easton kneeling in front of her, silently talking to her. His hands are on the sides of her face, completely unaware of the blue stream of energy coming their way.

“... Chris. Chris, listen to me. We need to get out of here. Chris.”

Chris grabs onto his wrists, looking him straight in the eye as her hearing begins to return. “Easton…”

“We need to leave. Now. Come on, I’ll help you…”

“Easton you need to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“You need to get out of here before it takes you too.” Chris sees the blue strand pass over the front row of desks, almost reaching them. “It’s already chosen me, you need to get out.”

“No, come on, we can make it.”

“Easton!” She pushes him out of the way as the blue strand lunges forward, driving straight into her forehead. The force once more pushes her back against the wall, pinning her there. She looks at Easton as he sits up, his eyes going wide as her vision becomes clouded with blue tints.

“GO!” She shouts as pain runs through her once more.

Chris manages to watch Easton almost reach the door before her vision completely leaves. Soon she feels herself being pulled forward by the force coming from the book, her body completely going limp as she stops resisting and gives in…

… letting the royal blue light take her over completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I hope you are enjoying this so far. I accidentally originally wrote this chapter in past tense rather than present, so please let me know if I missed anything while you were reading. Thanks for reading and I promise to post more soon!
> 
> (And yes, in case you can't tell, the chapter titles are song lyrics or topics related to the Aladdin Movie(s). Please let me know if you have any ideas for future chapter titles!)
> 
> B-)


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